


Murder On The Bus

by TheOneAndOnlyMegan



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Clue | Cluedo (Board Game), Murder on the Orient Express (2017), Poirot - Agatha Christie
Genre: F/F, F/M, Grant John and Lincoln are all kinda ass holes, Jemma's the dective, Murder on the Orient Express Themed, No Angst, Skye wears a sexy maid dress, This is called murder on the bus but doesnt actually take place on the bus, at least I don't think so, can't remember why I started writing this tbh, you didn't know you needed this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 10:57:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20619893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOneAndOnlyMegan/pseuds/TheOneAndOnlyMegan
Summary: Imagine CLUE the board game meets Agatha Christie's Murder On The Orient Express meets Jemma from Agents of SHIELD but gay because #skimmons #bioquake





	Murder On The Bus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S I never reread anything or check for spelling mistakes after I finish a chapter so you're at the mercy of whatever I was aware of whilst writing-which, I'll warn you now, isn't much

_ Day One; Thirteen Hundred Hours (1:00 pm) _

** **

There are thirteen other passengers on the train, besides myself, five crew members, and the two drivers. That, all together, account for twenty- _ one _ living people on the train, The Orient Express. 

** **

I didn’t like that number. 

** **

Not only was it  _ odd _ , quite literally mind you, but there were only supposed to be twenty passengers on this journey. We were going from Constantinople to Paris, and I could only speculate about why the other passengers were in Constantinople to begin with. My partner Fitz and I were there for a science meeting, something we rarely got to do after we started doing “investigations.” 

** **

We walked into the station, our bags rolling behind us and clicking on the marble floor. I turned to Fitz to remark, “Well this station seems to be quite nice, given its location and all.” 

** **

The Scottish man pulled his gaze away from the columns around us, always the engineer. “I should hope so, they spent nearly five years renovating this place!” 

** **

As we walked closer to the waiting area, I spotted ten others already waiting, all in various displays of wealth. 

** **

We made twelve, good, only two left unaccounted for. 

** **

I pulled out a list I’d made from my pocket, digging through my suitcase until I found a pen. “How about we go introduce ourselves?” 

** **

Fitz nodded and moved our bags over to a nearby bench that was available, before coming back to my side. The list I had made contained each passenger’s name, as well as a few blank lines next to their name. It was an old habit I had made for myself when I’d first started doing investigations. This was so I knew every passenger and I could list their job and…”hobby.” 

** **

Most people didn’t like to admit to it, but everyone had a defining trait, at least to me. Whether it was good or bad, well that just depended on the person. For example, one could be a banker but also a smuggler, or, a pilot and a father. It varied, but there was never a person without one. 

** **

Walking up to the first person I saw, I glanced down at my list. 

** **

The woman was absolutely surrounded by smoke, making her dark eyeliner stick out against her white fur coat and her eyes look even more menacing amidst the blood red colour of her hair.. 

** **

_ Natasha Romanoff - 09 _

** **

“Ms Romanoff? Jemma Simmions, pleasure to meet you.” 

** **

I extended my hand, and watched with a carefully concealed frown as the woman in front of me eyed my hand before blowing out an impressive puff of smoke. Eventually, she raised her own hand, clad in a white leather glove, and gently placed it into my own. 

** **

“Wish I could say the same for you, dear.” 

** **

And with that she removed her hand and turned her shoulder to me, bringing her cigarette up to her lips and taking a long drag once more. 

** **

Fitz and I moved on, and I added to my list. 

** **

_ Natasha Romanoff - 09; wealthy- _

** **

“A real pleasure, that one.” Fitz commented. I couldn’t stifle the laugh that followed. 

** **

“Hopefully the next few aren’t so bad.” 

** **

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

** **

As it turned out, Ian Quinn was decidedly  _ worse _ . Not daring to spare Fitz and I a glance but leering at me when we turned to leave. 

** **

_ Ian Quinn - 08; billionaire's son-playboy _

** **

He was easy to get a read on, and I considered it a small victory to have at least one of the passengers filled out. 

** **

Our next introduction was to a man and his son, Mike and Ace Peterson. Ace looked about six or seven and absolutely marveled at the thought of getting to ride a train. 

** **

“Just wait till he realizes how long the trip is, won’t think it’s so much fun then.” Mike said, turning to look at Fitz and I. Ace was sitting on the floor, playing merrily with some of his toys on the tops of his and his father’s suitcases. 

** **

Fitz and I laughed, “Hopefully he won’t get too bored.” 

** **

As we moved on, I added them to my list, next to their numbers (the likes of which I obtained from the numbers stamped on the cards attached to their luggage). 

** **

_ Ace Paterson - 04; n/a  _

_ Mike Peterson - 06; smuggler-father _

** **

From his place peering over my shoulder, Fitz furrowed his brows, “Smuggler? ‘Ere in the world did ya get that from Simmons?” 

** **

“His left leg, it’s fake and whenever her moved it sloshed a little. Bet his bags are the same way. Did you notice how one was so much fuller than the other? Padding to keep the glass from breaking.” 

** **

Fitz was wide-eyed, “Oi, I can’t believe he’d do that with his son near him!” 

** **

My head whipped over to look at him, “Shh! Keep your voice down!” I looked around us, no one seemed to be paying any mind to us, “He wasn’t wearing a wedding band, but there was a tan line on his finger. I’m going with divorce.” 

** **

I watched as Fitz went quite in thought, “Maybe not. Maybe his wife got killed of something, and that’s why he had to take the kid with him. Explains why he couldn’t leave him behind.” 

** **

“True.” I considered this for a moment, “But that doesn't explain the lack of a wedding band. Most spouses continue wearing them even when their partner’s gone, especially if they had kids.” _ _

** **

Shrugging his shoulders Fitz looked forwards again, “Maybe, but not everyone lives for that one true love, you know?” 

** **

Humming in agreement we slowed when a train whistle could be heard from the distance. Making our way to the loading platform, Fitz and I waited with everyone else until a tall woman came to stand next to me. 

** **

“Hi, Bobbi Morse, and you?” 

** **

Turning, I had to look up at her, “Simmons, Jemma Simmons. And this is my associate, Fitz.” 

** **

Bobbi shook my hand soundly, the white fur of her fox coat bouncing on her shoulder with the actions. She turned to do the same to Fitz, who looked away with a blush. 

** **

Bobbi smirked. “Well, maybe I’ll see you two around? It is a rather long ride to Paris. I’m sure there’s plenty of time.” 

** **

Fitz made a noise, something between a squeak and a strangled cry and it took nearly all of my willpower not to laugh.

** **

“Yes, I’m sure we will.” 

** **

Another whistle, and Fitz and I turned our heads to watch as the train lazily puffed into the station. It really was quite beautiful, however, soon my view was cut off by passengers boarding in front of me.

** **

I turned a shot Fitz a look over my shoulder, “Well, see you at dinner.” 

** **

He nodded before grabbing his suitcase and wheeling in behind me.

** **

_ Bobbi Morse - 02; wealthy- _

** **

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

** **

Car 3;

_ Grant Ward-01 _

_ Bobbi Morse-02;wealthy _

_ John Garrett-03 _

** **

Car 4;

_ Ace Peterson-04;n/a _

_ Lincoln Campbell-05 _

_ Mike Peterson-06;smuggler,father _

** **

Car 5;

_ Jemma Simmons-07 _

_ Ian Quinn-08;billionaire's son,playboy _

_ Natasha Romanoff-09;wealthy _

** **

Car 6;

_ Raina Rouge-10 _

_ Lance Hunter-11 _

_ Leopold Fitz-12 _

** **

Car 7;

_ Alisha Whitley-13 _

_ Victoria Hand-14 _

** **

The first thing I noticed upon stepping foot aboard the train was the maid. I can’t say why exactly the train had a maid, but I was glad they did and that she was wearing the cliché black and white dress. 

** **

And if that catcalls were anything to go by, I wasn’t the only one who thought so. 

** **

Instantly I felt dirty for having shared thoughts with the two men in front of me. Someone in the back of the car called back, “Hey, knock it off!” At least there was a gentleman on board. 

** **

The man was tall but not large. He had short cropped hair and matching, neatly trimmed facial hair on the bottom of his chin. Even though he looked young, his dark skin had a few laugh lines around his eyes, and I got the impression he was kind and loved to joke around. Despite all this, he was wearing a chef’s uniform, buttoned up to his chin and pristenly white. 

** **

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the maid nod in thanks to the chef, although she was seemingly unfazed by the attention, in fact, I think she winked. Then, as if sensing my eyes, the woman turned to me with a smile, meeting my gaze with two wide, warm brown eyes. 

** **

She was breathtaking. 

** **

Her skin was smooth and clear of any and all blemishes and her dark brown bangs fell across her forehead in a way that gently framed her face. When it was apparent I had been staring far longer than socially acceptable, I tore my gaze away from her and swallowed heavily. 

** **

“Hey.” 

** **

The voice next to my ear made me jump, and I turned to see the maid now standing directly in front of me. While she was taller than me, she wasn’t as tall a Bobbi and I could look at her to speak without feeling like I was going to snap my neck. 

** **

“Hullo.” 

** **

She smiled, “Anything I can do for you? You look a little lost. My name’s Skye and I’ll be happy to help you with anything. Oh, and, love the accent by the way.” 

** **

I hadn’t noticed it until she pointed out my accent, but she was American. _ Strange. _

** **

Quickly shaking my head to clear my thoughts,  _ She works here, she’s just being nice _ , “Would you mind showing me to my room? I’m afraid I haven't the slightest idea which way to go.”  _ A lie.  _

** **

She smiled again, eyes alight with something I couldn’t identify, “Of course. Let me see your ticket?” I handed over my ticket, which the girl eyed before nodding. “Alright, come with me, please.” 

** **

Grabbing my bag again I followed Skye as she lead me from one car to another, until we stood in front of a door that read “07” on a golden plaque. 

** **

“Thank you, I really appreciate it.” 

** **

Skye nodded, “Of course, anytime. Anything else before I go?” 

** **

The way she said it almost sounded like she hoped I’d have something else for her to do, another request, and I felt a warm feeling akin to molten butterflies in my stomach. “No, I’m afraid that’s all for now.” 

** **

“Alright. Please, enjoy your stay at the Oriental. Oh, and by the way, dinner will be at seven tonight in the dining car. Chef’s special soup unless requested otherwise?” 

** **

I nodded my head to say that was alright with me, and Skye pulled a key from one of her pockets. “Here ya go,” before turning and walking back down the hallway which we’d came. 

** **

Just as she was about to open the door to another car I was struck with an idea, “Wait!” 

** **

Stopping with her hand on the doorknob, Skye turned to look at me smile on her face, “Yes?” 

** **

With her looking at me and smiling like that I felt some of my confidence wane, “Um...would you be interested in having dinner with me? Tonight?” 

** **

A bit of sadness seeped into her eyes and she looked at me, genuinely apologetic, “I’m sorry, I’d love to but I have to wait the tables.” 

** **

I felt stupid, “Oh, right, yes...of course. Sorry about that, silly me.”  _ Please lord, end me now. _

** **

“But...if you could stand waiting a little longer I could maybe meet with you after? We have an observatory in one of the cars and the stars are just delightful this close to Constantinople?” 

** **

A feeling close to euphoria boiled up into my chest, “Yes! That sounds wonderful!”

** **

She smiled again before leaving the car, “See you then. Let me know if you need anything else.” 

** **

I watched her go, feeling nothing short of a school boy who had asked his crush to the dance. With a stupid smile on my face I turned back towards my door and pulled my list from my pocket. If I was passenger number seven, and there were three passengers per car, then that meant that to my right would be both Ian Quinn (number eight), and Natasha Romanoff (number nine). My brows furrowed, how is it that I somehow managed to end up in a car with two of the rudest guests on the train? Skimming over the list one last time I returned it to my pocket and opened my door using the key Skye left me. 

** **

The room was decent, and I supposed they all looked relatively the same, the Oriental was known for having no first class, but treating all the passengers to second class standards. Setting my suitcase on my bunk, I turned and opened the closet before turning and making sure the window was locked shut and drawing the blinds. Taking off my coat, I hung it neatly on one of the twelve coathangers within the closet before pulling out a simple evening dress out of my belongings. In exactly three hours I would go to the dining car and meet Fitz for dinner. For now, I would explore the cars 1-9 while Fitz would explore cars 10-18, sans baggage cars (one at the beginning and end of the train) and the actual train and coal rooms themselves. Overall the Oriental could range anywhere from 4 to 22 coaches, our train in particular only had 18 at the moment. (Twenty counting baggage)

** **

Making my way towards the front of the train with my (now empty) bag in tow, I tried to keep track of who was located where. I had three days to be stuck with them all in close quarters, and I planned to keep an eye on all of my fellow passengers. 

** **

Ward and Garrett (passengers 01 and 03) were in the seating area (car 2) playing cards. I made my way past them, ignoring the way Grant whistled as I walked past (I was immensely grateful I had opted to keep on my stockings with my dress), and opened the door leading to the first car (the baggage coach). I walked down the narrow aisle until I found the shelf and cupboard labeled “07” and stored my things there. To my right, I noted Ian and Natasha’s spaces were both empty. 

** **

Making my way back through car two. I walked through all the housing cars (coaches 3-7) until I made it to the eighth coach, the lounge area. On one of the long lavish couches, Natasha Romanoff sat with her legs curled underneath her, cigarette between two of her short fingers. I scrunched up my nose, “Do you ever stop smoking?” 

** **

She looked over to me, disinterest painting every inch of her face, “No, not before six.” 

** **

The words had been said not unkindly, but I got the impression she wasn’t trying to be rude, only that she was. Shrugging her off I turned to the other passengers in the car, Bobbi Morse and Lance Hunter (passengers numbers 02 and 11).

** **

Bobbie smiled when I walked over and scooched over on her loveseat, patting the (now empty) space next to her, “Miss.Simmons! Please, have a seat.” Nodding my thanks I sat down next to her, facing Lance who was across from us on the other couch. 

** **

“‘Ello darlin’, an who might you be?” Lance asked me. 

** **

His accent threw me for a moment, it wasn’t much different from my own, except it was distinctly stronger and  _ much  _ less proper.  _ An Aussie _ . Bobbi was French. 

** **

“Simmons, Jemma Simmons.” 

** **

Lance smiled, board and toothy...I could see his fillings. “Nice ta meet ya! I’m Lance Hunter, adventurer extraordinaire!” 

** **

I assumed the display was meant to be charming, and while I wanted to roll my eyes it seemed Bobbi was quite taken with him.  _ Blech _

** **

Looking over to the blonde next to me, he asked, “Say, you ever been to the states?” 

** **

Bobbi’s eyes glinted, “No I haven’t! Have you? What’s it like over there?” 

** **

Sitting there for nearly twenty minutes I heard roughly three stories from Lance, all which he told with wildly exaggerated details. 

** **

I pegged him a con artist. 

** **

Excusing myself I made my way from the car onto the next. The dining car (coach nine) was much darker than the others, the blinds over the windows being both thick and large, to create an overall relaxed atmosphere. Nearly a dozen tables were set with candles and silverware, each with four chairs. Three tables down from where I stood sat Lincoln (passenger number 05) snacking lightly on a bowl of peanuts, while a few tables down from him sat Mike and Ace, the two sharing a bowl of ice cream. I smiled at Mike when he saw me come in, before making my way over to Lincoln’s table. 

** **

“Hi, Mr.Campbell, correct?”

** **

He had messy blonde hair, a little stubble lining the southernmost part of his chin, and bright electric blue eyes. 

** **

“Yeah, and you are?” 

** **

I considered taking a seat across from him, but decided against it, if he wanted the company he didn’t act like it. “Simmons, Jemma Simmons.” 

** **

“Nice to meet you Mrs.Simmons, no offence but I wasn’t really looking for any company.” 

** **

“Of course, it was nice meeting you.” 

** **

Stepping away from his table, I made my way towards Mike and Ace. It seemed I wouldn’t be adding anything about Lincoln to my list. 

** **

“Well look at you two, dessert before dinner?” 

** **

Mike looked sheepish but Ace just grinned, “The nice and pretty maid lady gave it to me when I told her it was my birthday! Said she put one scoop of every flavor they had in it too! Say, ya want some?” The last part was asked around a spoonful of ice cream, and I felt myself smile when some chocolate dribbled down Ace’s chin. 

** **

“No thank you, but that’s very kind of you, offering your birthday ice cream like that. Happy Birthday, by the way. Maybe I’ll see you two at dinner?” 

** **

Ace puffed his chest out at the praise and Mike smiled gratefully at the dinner offer, “Sure, see you then.” 

** **

JustI was as I was about to make my way to the next car, Skye came through the door carrying three beers in one hand and a glass of wine and its bottle in the other. When she saw me she smiled, stopping in the aisle in front of me.

** **

“Jemma, how’re you doing? Anything I can get you?” 

** **

I smiled back, trying to fight the blush when she called me by my first name, “No, thank you, though.” 

** **

She nodded, holding up the glasses and bottles in her hands, “Sorry, I’d love to stay and chat with you but I’ve got a couple delivers to make.” 

** **

“Of course.” 

** **

Watching as Skye passed me, I watched the other woman stop next to Mike and Ace’s table loudly and excitedly asking, “How’s the birthday boy doing!” When Ace gave a thumbs up and a big smile Skye moved on, stopping again at Lincoln’s table. They were too far away for me to hear what they were saying, but it was easy to see where Lincoln was looking and it made the hairs on the back of my neck raise. 

** **

Turning, I pushed the door to the next car open before I ended up losing my temper and calling him out for it. 

** **

I found myself in the kitchen (coach ten), while a man I hadn’t met yet whirled around the room stirring something here or flipping something there. He was also the one who called Grant and Lincoln out earlier. 

** **

“I thought the dinner was soup? What’s all this?” I joked. 

** **

He smiled, his teeth a brilliant contrast to his dark skin, “What? All this? You better bet this is my famous soup! As well as steaks and salads of course.” 

** **

“Wow, colour me impressed.” 

** **

Laughing I watched as he moved to the cutting board, chopping up the onions there. “Antione Tripplet at your service. Any requests for tonight? Don’t be shy, I’ve already gotten two steaks for the military gentlemen and a fruit salad for Lady Romanoff.” 

** **

I filed the tidbit about military men getting steaks away for later, at dinner I would be able to discern who they were and add their information to my list. 

** **

“No thank you, your soup sounds lovely as it is.” 

** **

The chef smiled, “Alright, remember, dinner’s at seven. I’d hate to do all this talking about my soup only for you to forget about it.” 

** **

I laughed, “Are you saying your soup’s forgettable?” 

** **

He mock scoffed, turning to look at me incredulously while he added something to the boiling pot on the stove, “Not after you’ve had it!” 

** **

Taking my leave I continued onto the next car even though I had already looked through all my cars, I figured I might as well see the rest of the train and meet up with Fitz. 

** **

The next coach appeared to be another seating area, similar to car 02, however, instead of finding Ward and Garrett playing cards I found a redhead reading a book.

** **

“Hullo, I don’t believe we’ve met? I’m Jemma, Jemma Simmons.” I walked over until I was standing in front of her, the book she was reading didn’t appear to have a title or author. Odd. 

** **

Nevertheless the girl smiled up at me, pale blue eyes scanning over my face, “Alishia Whitley. Nice to meet you Lady. Simmons.” 

** **

A small chuckle escaped me, “Oh, no, I’m no proper Lady.” 

** **

Alishia blushed, looking out the window to her left and fiddling with the pages of her book. “Sorry, don’t mind me, I didn’t mean to assume.” 

** **

I placed a hand on her shoulder, taking a seat on the bench across from her, “Don’t worry about it. Besides, now you know a bit more about me.” 

** **

She smiled, this time seeming a bit more confident in herself if the way she sat up straighter and placed a finger in her book to hold her place were anything to go by. 

** **

“Tell me, what brings you to Paris? I, myself, can’t wait to get back! I’ve missed all the lights, the people, the shoppes!” 

** **

There was a genuine excitement in her voice and I found myself nodding along with her. “Oh just traveling for business I’m afraid. I live in London and there wasn’t a train that could take me directly there from Constantinople.” 

** **

“Oh that’s lovely! Tell me, what’s London like? I’ve never been. I don’t tend to travel much. I was only in Constantinople to visit my grandmother.”

** **

I took a moment to consider, “It’s very homey, the buildings are always built from the most beautiful stones and no matter the weather someone always has a warm smile.” It wasn’t completely a lie, but it felt wrong to tell someone so singularly happy that everywhere in the world was filled with just about as many bad things as good. 

** **

Just then, Skye came rushing through the door a man with a kind face and wide smile hot on her heels. 

** **

Stopping in the aisle next to me Skye placed a hand on my shoulder and I could feel heat creep up my neck.  _ Surely she meant to grab the bench?  _ “Afternoon, anything I can get for you ladies?” 

** **

I looked up shaking my head, and when I turned to look at Alishia the girl was blushing and looking down at her hands. “Could I...maybe get a cup of hot chocolate? I know it may seem childish but-” 

** **

“Say no more! One cup of hot chocolatte coming up!” Skye looked around the car dramatically then, before leaning over my shoulder to stage whisper to Alishia. “And between you and me, I think there’s nothing childish about the best drink in the world.” 

** **

Between the weight of Skye’s breasts on my shoulder, caused by her leaning  _ impossibly  _ closer to whisper to Alishia, and the impossible amount of heat her body seemed to radiate I felt my brain short circuit. When the brunette stood up, I tried to hide my disappointment at the lack of contact.

** **

And then, just like that, Skye was gone. Moving away swiftly through the cars. Once Skye was gone the man that had followed her in took her place, looking at us with friendly smiles and kind eyes. “Hi ladies, I’m Eric Koenig. May I see you tickets?” Ruffling through my pockets I pulled out the ticket I had stuffed in there before leaving my room, turning to give it to the Conductor. 

** **

He pulled out a hole puncher from his suit pocket, handing handing my ticket back to me when he was finished before doing the same to Alishia’s ticket. “Thank you, ladies. Have a lovely evening.” 

** **

When he left he went the opposite way of Skye, going further though the train into car 12. I took this as my cue to leave. 

** **

“Well, Alishia, it was lovely meeting you, maybe I’ll see you around?” 

** **

“Yes of course, the train  _ is  _ only so big after all.” I smiled before continuing towards the door leading to the next coach before Alishia called out after me. “Oh wait! Before you go, which car is for the luggage? There isn’t  _ quite  _ enough room in my room for me and the cello. The violin’s just fine but the cello’s rather large.” 

** **

My smile this time was less of a friendly one and more of a satisfied grin, “The first car, all the way in the front.” 

** **

She smiled, “Thanks.” 

** **

“Don’t mention it.” 

** **

Another mystery resolved on my list. 

** **

_ Alishia Whitely-13; musician _

** **

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

** **

Before I was able to make any real progress on the twelfth car, which really wouldn’t have been much, it looked like living quarters for the staff with all the doors, I ran into Fitz. 

** **

“Simmons!” he yelped in surprise, before rushing towards me. “How’s it coming?” 

** **

I knew what he meant, of course, and handed him my list, trying not to frown too much at my own lack of progress. 

** **

“I haven’t gathered as much as I would have wanted. Not to mention, I haven’t even made places for the staff yet.”

** **

Fitz nodded sympathetically, “Hey, I’m sure you’ll find out more at dinner.” His brows furrowed, “Say, Simmons, does this train feel like it’s set up weird to you?” 

** **

I cocked my head to the side, slipping my list back into my pocket, “What do you mean?” 

** **

“Well, the order of the cars seems strange is all. Not to mention the way their numbered. Like the actual train and coal room don’t have numbers, neither does the caboose, but when you go through all the cars there’s only two cars for the staff and crew, but there’s seven of them total Where’s the seventh person sleep?”

** **

For a moment I ran through everything Fitz said in my head, before simply shrugging. “I’ve heard Coulson and his crew are known to be quite the odd bunch. Maybe it’s just how they are.” Fitz seemed to take this statement at face value, shrugging his shoulders as well before linking his arm with mine and leading us back the way I’d came. 

** **

“Shall we make our way towards the dining car?” 

** **

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

** **

The dining car was already bustling with life by the time Fitz and I made it through the door. In the middle of it all Skye was taking drink orders and delivering plates, a warm smile on her face. Garrett and Ward had taken a seat with Quinn, the three men deep in a conversation while Ward stole risque glances at Skye when she walked by. Lady Romanoff sat alone surprisingly absent of a cigarette, although a passenger I hadn’t met yet was eyeing one of the empty seats at her table, apparently wanting to move away from Alisha, Bobbi, and Hunter who occupied the other seats at her table. Mike and Ace were sitting at the same table they were earlier, this time without a big bowl of ice cream, although I can’t say whether I would be more surprised if they had finished it or if they still had an appetite afterward. Lincoln was also sat at the same table from earlier, although this time a girl in a floral dress was sat across from him. What I found the most surprising, however, were the three people sitting in crew outfits and the driver among them. 

** **

The driver appeared to be a man in his mid forties, and it was hard not to see him as a loving father. He had kind eyes and a warm smile, not to mention a balding head that completed “the look.” Across from him sat the Conductor and a woman I hadn’t seen yet. She didn’t seem very tall, although her shoulders suggested a built figure was hidden under the fabric of her uniform.  _ Wow, she’s wearing pants. Which, I guess it would be easier to work a train in slacks than a dress, but wow, I didn’t realize how liberal this train was. Although I suppose the only other female worker I’ve seen up until this point had been Skye, and she was  _ far  _ from what I had expected too.  _

** **

Making our way to an unoccupied table, Fitz and I sat down across from each other in the seats nearest one of the windows hidden among curtains. 

** **

“So, Simmons, while you were looking through your cars I happened to meet Mr. Campbell and Mrs. Hand. The latter of which, I will say, was rather poor company.” 

** **

Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I pulled the list of passengers from my pocket. My brain tried to piece together who the people were that Fitz had just addressed so formally. Looking down the list, I was able to connect that ‘Mr. Campbell’ was ‘Lincoln.’ 

** **

“Were you able to learn anything about them? I met Lincoln earlier but he wasn’t very pleased with my company.” 

** **

Fitz shook his head sadly, “Sorry Simmons, it’s not much but I know that Hand is here on the matters of a divorce, I overheard her talking to the maid about it.” 

** **

In a tone a little more harsh than I intended, I immediately corrected him, “Her name is Skye.” 

** **

“Who, Hand? Naw, Simmons, ‘er name is Victo-” 

** **

I rolled my eyes. Fitz could be rather  _ dense  _ sometimes, “No you bloody-the maid, her name is Skye.” 

** **

“Oh! Hey, how’d you know that? Nevermind, it doesn’t matter I s’pose, but hey, I wonder how much she hears from everyone, eh?”

** **

The thought hadn’t occurred to me. Just as I was thinking through the best way to ask “hey I know this may seem weird but can you tell me all the other passengers’ secrets? Gee thanks” the woman in question herself came over to our table, her arms laiden with three plates each. Before I could stand to help her remove them, she quickly but carefully placed a plate in front of Fitz and I respectively. In the center of each plate sat a large bowl filled dangerously close to the brim with steaming hot soup. Two rolls of bread resting on the edge of the plate off to the side. 

** **

How Skye had been managing to balance four plates like that as well as to plates with steaks- 

** **

Before she could get too far I remembered what the Chef said about the steaks, “Say! Who ordered those, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

** **

For a moment Skye’s smile was replaced by a confused frown, one of her brows arching to accentuate the emotion, before her smile carefully slipped back on. Even though the other girl seemed to have schooled herself there was still the tiniest lit to her voice, but whether it was suspicion, confusion, or amusement, I couldn’t tell. 

** **

“Mr. Grant Ward and Mr. John Garrett, why, would you like one too?” 

** **

_ Score! So they were military...  _ “Uh, no thanks, but...I thought Fitz might like one, Fitz?” I turned to him hopefully, pleading with my eyes.  _ Or, at least I hoped. I was a rather dreadful liar _ . 

** **

Before Fitz could respond Skye chuckled under her breath, “Mm, I’m sure. I’ll be back in a bit, let me know if you two need anything, okay?” 

** **

Skye took off down the aisle again, placing plates on tables as she went. Fitz furrowed, “Hey! What if I wanted a steak?” 

** **

I laughed, “I guess she’s more perceptive than I thought, I hope she doesn’t think me too weird after I asked her a question like that…” 

** **

Fitz shrugged, cutting open his bread roll and lathering it with butter from the small dish on the center of the table. “Eh, Iunno. Probably not? She just seemed to think it was a little funny.” 

** **

Sighing, I stirred my soup, letting the warm steam gently caress my face, “I hope so...I’m supposed to be meeting her later. In the observatory car.” 

** **

There was a clatter of silverware as Fitz dropped his spoon he had been trying to pick up, “Simmons! That’s...good?” 

** **

Reverently I looked around to see if anyone had noticed his fumble or shrill exclamation, “Fitz, keep your voice down!” I whisper shouted. 

** **

“Sorry! I just- When did you even-” 

** **

Just as I had been reaching for a knife to butter my roll, the train shuddered and the lights flickered. Silverware clattered to the floor as people cried out in protest. A sharp pain pierced the soft flesh of my palm and I looked down to see the knife blade had nicked the skin between my thumb and pointer finger. 

** **

“Simmons!” Fitz cried out. 

** **

The train had stopped shuttering and I looked around to find everyone in different displays of disarray. Miraculously, Skye was still standing in the middle of the aisle with three plates in her hands. How she hadn’t spilled any soup was by far the most impressive thing I had ever seen.

** **

A man-the fatherly one I had passed before-stood. “This is your driver speaking. I ask you not to worry, rest assured we have everything under control. One of the best drivers of our time is driving the train right now, and whatever the weather throws our way I assure you she can handle.” 

** **

There were grumbles from some of the passengers, but everyone seemed to be returning to their plates. In an instant Skye was at my side, her warm hands gently cupping my one injured one. 

** **

“Jemma! Are you alright? Here, let me take care of that for you.” Rummaging through her maid’s pockets, Skye pulled out a sterile wipe and handkerchief. “Sorry, I know it’s no bandage but it should do for now.” 

** **

I spluttered for a moment, getting lost in warm, caring, hands and eyes. “I-thank you.” 

** **

The smile Skye flashed me from under her bangs was nothing short of stunning, “Don’t worry about it.”

** **

“Hey, Skye, are you alright?” 

** **

Looking over the other woman’s shoulder, I was surprised to see the train driver standing there with his hand on her shoulder. 

** **

With a distinct kind of familiarity I couldn’t quite place my finger on, Skye turned to the older man and said with a smile, “Yeah, I’m good A.C. Go make sure May’s alright.” 

** **

He patted her shoulder affentionantly, “Okay, holler if you need help cleaning anything up down here.” Then he turned away, walking towards the train. 

** **

“Well, Jemma, I’m sorry but I really ‘ought to go and check on the other passengers and  _ you  _ really ‘ought to get your hand looked at. Koenig-our Conductor I’m sure you’ve met him by now-he’s got some training in the medical field I’ll tell him to give it a look and proper bandage.” 

** **

I felt myself smiling, “Well, that’s awfully kind of you Skye but you’ll be pleased to know I actually have quite the extensive amount of training in the medical field.” 

** **

The other woman smiled, “Ah, should have figured someone as smart as you would. Well, see you Jemma-that...that is if we’re still good for later?” 

** **

Blushing at the throwaway compliment I nodded, “Of course, wouldn’t miss it.” 

** **

“Great.” 

** **

And with that, she was off.

** **

“Well if  _ that _ -” 

** **

Before Fitz could get started I cut him off, “Not a word Fitz, not a word.” 

** **

“But  _ Simmons _ !” He whined, “C’mon it’s not everyday a pretty girl  _ actually talks back to you- _ ”

** **

“Fitz! Just, let’s go back to what we were talking about before. And our soup. I’m quite hungry, aren’t you? Now, I believe you were saying something about Mrs.-er Ms. Hand?” 

** **

Squinting at me with a hard stare Fitz seemed to brush off whatever it was he was going to say in protest before picking up his spoon, “Right, yes, well, Ms. Hand-”

** **

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

** **

Making my way towards the back of the train and the observatory car, I thought over what Fitz had told me at dinner.

** **

First, there were the cars. They were something of a mystery to me, that once Fitz had mentioned them I found myself thinking about them, and turning over what he had said all throughout dinner. Except, of course, when Skye would walk by, or say something to me...or anybody else. It just didn’t make sense-Fitz had said as much-that they were set up the way they were. I found there to be absolutely no reason why they had  _ two  _ lounge cars, why not just one? And I couldn't find a reason for their need of a conservatory car either. Then, there was the matter of the seventh person. Which crew member didn’t have a bunk of their own, and where did they sleep?

** **

Secondly, there was the information Fitz had overhead about Victoria Hand. Apparently, she was here on the matters of a divorce. A divorce from  _ whom _ she apparently hadn’t said, but Fitz said it sounded like she was rather bitter about it. Apparently, whomever it was, was divorcing  _ her _ . 

** **

I hadn’t quite made up in my mind whether I wanted to ask Skye about it when I met her, seeing as she  _ was  _ the original one Victoria had been talking to-when I ran into the woman herself. 

** **

“Skye!” She turned to me with a smile, and I noticed that she wasn’t wearing her maid’s outfit. Instead, the other woman had donned grey slacks and a loose white shirt. The sleeves were too long for her, however, and were rolled up past her elbows while the bottom of the shirt hung down nearly to her knees. 

** **

“Jemma! There you are. How about we walk the last car together? I mean, unless you wanted to hang behind and properly meet me there.” There was clear humor in her jest, but I got the impression she really wouldn’t mind if I requested her to go ahead to stay behind just for the sake of the act. 

** **

“No that’s quite alright, seems rather counter productive if you ask me.” 

** **

Holding out her arm so I could loop my own through it, Skye proceeded to lead me towards the car of our designated meeting. 

** **

“How’s your hand? I’m really sorry about that, by the way. Coulson said May tried to slow us down but the rocks on the track couldn’t be avoided.” 

** **

I filed the names away for later, “Coulson...is that who you called A.C at dinner?” 

** **

She smiled devilishly, “Observant, aren’t you? Yeah, that’s A.C. His real name’s Phil but I’ve always called him A.C for short.” 

** **

I furrowed my brows, not making the connection. “Short for...what exactly?” 

** **

“Agent Coulson. It’s part of an ongoing joke we had going while he was first taking me over here.” 

** **

Pulling to a stop, Skye untangled our arms to open the door for me, “Thanks. Over from where, America?” 

** **

Shutting the door behind us, Skye resumed her position next to me but only long enough to smile before walking deeper into the coach. “Yep, what gave it away? The accent?” 

** **

“Truthfully, it took me a little while to notice.” 

** **

Skye laughed, and while I didn’t think what I said deserved getting a laugh like hers it was a victory in my mind anyway. 

** **

“Well Jemma, here we are.” 

** **

I looked around, noticing for the first time the absence of lights in this particular car. “No lights?” 

** **

Skye chuckled, “Kinda takes away from the point of the car, don’t ya think?” 

** **

Blushing, I hoped the car was dark enough that Skye didn’t see. Already, from the distance between us I could scarcely make out a detail of her face besides her white teeth when she smiled. “Uh, yeah...I suppose.” 

** **

She laughed at my meek response and I found myself not caring if she was laughing at my expense, as long as she was laughing. 

** **

“So this is actually an observatory? I can’t imagine why you guys would actually need one…” 

** **

Moving about the car Skye grabbed a handle I hadn't seen before and started to crank, “Yeah, check it out!”

** **

At once there was a horrible scraping sound that accompanies metal grinding on metal before the roof started to more and the soft glow of moonlight and stars filtered into the room around us.All round us the car was bathed in moonlight and a slight breeze ruffled the collar of my dress from the open roof. Looking up, I felt my breath stolen from my throat as I let out a gasp of surprise. Above me, the night sky seemed to twinkle like something straight out of a storybook. 

** **

I felt more than saw Skye come up behind me after tinkering with a few things in the car, “I know right? Pretty magical if you ask me. When I first came on board, I used to stay up all night just watching the stars. Made for some pretty coffee filled mornings, but it was worth it in my book.” 

** **

Smiling, I looked over my shoulder to find Skye standing just a foot or two behind me. Looking up at the stars, I marveled at the way the moonlight slipped over her features like silk, and the way the stars seemed even brighter when reflected in the endless pools of her eyes. “I’m more of a tea drinker myself.” 

** **

Rolling her eyes good naturedly, Skye shifted her gaze from the stars above us to me, and I felt myself grow a touch warmed as her eyes roamed my face. 

** **

“I brought some blankets from my quarters that I figured we could maybe spread out if you wanted? And I may or may not have stolen some snacks from Tripp in the kitchen, but he doesn’t have to know about that.”

** **

As Skye turned to where she had her blankets and snacks stashed I felt myself relaxing more than I had in years. Being around the other woman just made me feel calm and like I could be myself. There wasn’t the pressure or expectation to say something smart or make some important call about whether or not a disease was contagious. Not that I didn’t think Skye was smart, just that her personality wasn’t demanding. I got the feeling I could ramble on using scientific terms for an hour or just talk complete gibberish and she would still listen. 

** **

“Hey Jemma, you coming?” 

** **

I looked down at the other girl at the sound of her voice to find her sitting on the floor on top of two blankets that had been laid out overlapping each other. Next to her was a small silver platter topped with strawberries, grapes, dessert biscuits, two brownies, and a small bowl of melted chocolate. Sitting down next to her, careful not to put any weight on my hand which I had bandaged in my quarters shortly before meeting with Skye, I plucked a grape off the tray and popped it into my mouth. “Quite the impressive spread you’ve got here.” 

** **

“Not as impressive as the company.” 

** **

I blushed, it was cheesy but coming from Skye it sounded far too genuinely sincere, “Please, you don’t even know me.” 

** **

Grabbing a strawberry off the tray and dipping it into the chocolate Skye responded, “No, but I want to. So, tell me about yourself?” 

** **

“Sure. What would you like to know?” 

** **

Chewing her strawberry, I watched as the other woman visibly thought through her answer. Almost like she was considering what diamond necklace to wear to an expensive ball and not something as unimportant as asking me a simple question. 

** **

“I don’t know, just...tell me five facts about yourself I wouldn’t know from looking at you. Four things I should know, your work, favorite colour, stuff like that and one that wouldn’t usually come up in a first conversation. And I’ll do the same.” 

** **

“Well that’s no fair, I already know what you do for work, and this is hardly our first meeting.” 

** **

Smiling, Skye reached for another strawberry, her hand almost brushing mine as I reached for a biscuit. 

** **

“Then I’ll just come up with something else.” 

** **

“Okay,” I smiled. 

** **

Comfortable silence lapsed over us, nothing but the rails clacking under us and the slight whistle of the breeze. From this far down in the train I couldn’t even hear any of the other passengers. 

** **

“Okay, ready? You go first.” 

** **

“Alright.” I put the last bite of biscuit in my mouth, chewing over both it and how much I wanted to tell the woman in front of me. No matter how I thought about it, I found myself wanting to tell her as much as possible, no matter how it might go over. 

** **

“Well, Fitz and I are both scientists, and we do small investigations in our free time between experiments. Just a hobby we picked up during our early studies in college by way of making extra money to fund our research.” 

** **

“Huh, so that explains the question at dinner.” 

** **

“Yeah, sorry about that by the way. That must have seemed quite odd at the time.” 

** **

She shrugged, “Not really, in fact I kind of figured you were keeping tabs on the other passengers when I caught a glimpse of your list earlier.” 

** **

The confession caught me off guard, so Skye was smarter and far more perceptive than she let on. “Uh yeah, thanks for not being weirded out I guess?” 

** **

She laughed, “Well, now I know what you do, I guess it’s my turn huh? So, you know I’m a maid, but what you probably don’t know is that Coulson hired me when he was visiting his sister in America and brought me over himself to give me the job.” 

** **

My curiosity was piqued, “That seems like a pretty big risk to take, hiring someone and bringing them over without really knowing them.” 

** **

Skye shrugged, and for once she wasn’t the bubbly personality I had come to expect from her, “That’s...more of a second date type of territory.” 

** **

Pounding a little faster in my chest, I felt my heart rate increase and my palms sweat, “Is...is this a date?” 

** **

I hoped to god it was. 

** **

Grinning Skye reached behind her back and pulled out a small wrinkled object, “Maybe, I don’t know...but this it.” She placed the small fruit in my hand and the absurdity of the action and absolute ridiculousness behind the joke left me reeling. 

** **

“That was horrible.” 

** **

“I try.” Skye grabbed another strawberry, but this time instead of putting it into her mouth she twirled the green leaves still attached at the top, “Sooo...is this a date?” 

** **

The hesitance in her voice was endearing and if I hadn’t already found myself charmed and enamoured that would have been the final push. 

** **

“Well, I surely hope so…” 

** **

Jerking her head up the smile on Skye’s face was by far the biggest and brightest I had seen from her yet, “Really? Cuz I know it’s real soon an’ all but I really want to kiss you right now.” 

** **

Attempting to swallow the lump that had formed in my throat I could only nod in response. Evidently, the little confidence I had had only mere moments before had left me.

** **

Smiling, Skye leaned closer to me, close enough that I could feel her breath mixing deliciously with my own. “Jemma?” 

** **

“Hmm?” The sound was less of a hum and more of a pitiful, undignified squeak.

** **

“I’m going to kiss you now.” One of her hands was now cupping the side of my face, her fingers sliding along the underside of my jaw and wrapping around to the back of my neck. “Is that okay?” 

** **

“Y-yes…” God I hated myself sometimes. 

** **

At first when Skye pressed her lips on my own I could only feel her smile, then she leaned impossibly closer, pressing herself more firmly onto me and I felt myself turn to putty under her ministrations. The gentle way her fingers slipped into my hair, ever so slightly scratching at my nape. Her lips felt warm on my own and much softer than anything I had ever felt before. Not only did she tasted strongly of sweet, fresh strawberries but there was a hint of the chocolate in there as well. After a moment that felt like only a second, Skye brought her other hand up to cup the other side of my face. Her thumb pressing gently but firmly to the corner of my mouth to signal the start of the parting of our lips, which we did with a small pop. 

** **

When she looked at me her eyes were lidded and I imagined after a moment like that I must have looked similar. 

** **

“Wow…” I breathed. The breathiness of my own voice surprised me and I wondered just how long we had been locked together in such an excitingly intimate way. 

** **

Skye smiled, bright and full of something new, “Yeah...wow.” 

** **

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

** **

After some more snacking, a few kisses, and more talking-to which I learned that Skye’s favorite colour was sky blue-if only for the fact that it was named after her-that she had had a dog named Spike when she was seven, had broken her arm from falling out of a tree when she was twelve, was currently twenty-two years of age, and that if she was to be talked to before her morning cup of coffee I would be met with an entirely different woman. Afterward, she had walked me back to my quarters, placing a shy kiss on my cheek while holding my hands at the door before letting go and walking back the way we had come, throwing a small wink, smile, and wave over her shoulder as she went. 

** **

Needless to say I was absolutely smitten. 

** **

** **


End file.
